Keeping Mr. Right Now: A Kisses in the Sand Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Robin Bielman

  Zane closed his eyes for a moment.

  “Sorry. I got a little carried away there.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for sharing your ideas or saying what you feel.”

  “Okay. So…are you anxious about showing your film tonight?” Her one foray into filmmaking had been for a journalism class in college, and she’d been so worried about peer reaction. Thanks to the rest of her group, the project had been a success.

  He took a breath—a replenishing breath, Sophie thought. “Nah. We’ve screened it a couple of times already and the response has been amazing, so I’m more mando than anything else.”

  “Mando?”

  “Feeling totally cool about it.”

  “Need a surfing fan for your next film?” She put her palm on his very fine chest and rubbed up and down.

  He covered her hand with his to stop her momentum. “If you’re anywhere near my next film it won’t be as a fan.”

  “No? What would you make me do?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “You sure you want me to answer that right here with the theater staff all watching us?”

  She jumped back and turned to find that yes, it seemed she and Zane were on display this morning. And from the grins on the one-two-three-four older faces staring around the front entrance, they were enjoying themselves.

  “Bye, Zane.” She gave him a nod and strode away, keenly aware that his eyes were on her backside. She put an extra wiggle in her walk because freaking Zane Hollander wanted to enjoy her. And she’d never been more full of life.

  Chapter Nine

  “I like the way you think, son,” SHE’s co-founder and executive director, Jon Waldron, said. “And I think you’ve got great potential to lead this newer breed of surf nonprofiteers.” He got up from the poolside table at the White Strand Inn and extended his arm.

  Zane, Bryce, and Danny stood. Zane shook the man’s hand. “Thanks, Jon. You have no idea what it means to me to be part of the movement fueling surf philanthropy in our own backyard and globally.”

  “It’s been great to meet you in person and put aside the rumors that gave us pause. I can see you’re a man of integrity,” Jon said, shaking hands with Bryce and Danny, too. “My partner and better half arrives tomorrow. Lunch again?”

  “Absolutely,” Zane said. “And we’ve got a seat reserved for you at the screening tonight if you’d like to attend.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Bryce stepped around the table. “And give you the details.”

  “Great.” Jon smiled and gave Zane a nod.

  “Dude.” Danny slapped him on the back as soon as Bryce and Jon were out of view. “That could not have gone any better.”

  “Yeah. Hey listen, I’m going to catch a few waves before we head over to the Cove.” Zane fanned his T-shirt away from his stomach.

  “You okay?” Danny asked.

  “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later.” He needed to get his ass in the water, and so that’s the direction he went.

  He toed off his shoes, pulled his shirt over his head, and left them at the sand’s edge. Not much empty space existed on the beach, and he kept his head down, hoping to avoid notice. A small group of teenage boys toweled off, their surfboards still wet.

  “Hey, mind if I borrow one of these for a few?” Zane picked up one of the boards.

  “You’re Zane Hollander,” a tall kid said, his eyes wide in surprise.

  “Yep.” Zane put out his hand and shook each boy’s. “This cool?” He nodded at the board.

  “Totally. Take your time.”

  “And do me a favor? Keep it on the down low.” He didn’t want them following and drawing attention to his presence.

  Four heads nodded.

  “Thanks,” he said and hit the water. He paddled far enough out to get lost in the pack of surfers. Straddling the board, he drifted and instead of concentrating on catching the next wave, thought about what Jon had said.

  I like the way you think, son.

  The compliment had literally stopped his heart from beating for a second. Jon had no idea the weight those words carried, and Zane wanted to believe them.

  He wanted to have them fucking tattooed on his body.

  Jon Waldron didn’t pull punches. He spoke from the heart. Zane had read enough about him to know that. Zane tried to do the same. Always had. His mom had taught him from the time he started school that the heart told the truth. If he listened to it, she’d say, he could do no wrong.

  Funny, his dad never got that memo.

  Probably because the man didn’t have a heart.

  What reasons had he given his father to treat him so poorly and call him stupid, dumb, dense, asinine, everything but the name he’d been given?

  He’d been a wild kid, sure, but no different from any of the other kids he hung out with. Thinking back on it now, he’d never gotten into any serious trouble besides ditching classes. And that started after his father’s insults took up more headspace than the idea of studying to get good grades. But had he ever failed a class? No. Gotten a D? No.

  With minimal effort—shit, did he even open some of those textbooks?—he’d managed to move to the next grade level without having to repeat a class.

  So why?

  Sunlight glittered off the water. Rays of sunshine warmed his shoulders and back. The only reason he could think of was surfing. He’d excelled in the water so much that everyone talked about him. The local paper kept up with him. Attention from girls made him popular.

  Maybe his dad was jealous.

  But, he realized, his dad pushed him out there. The Pacific became his sanctuary, his hideout, his home. His skin would be so shriveled when he finally walked through the sliding glass kitchen door that Julia called him Wrinkle Boy. His father would say, “Hey dumbass, did you get any better today?”

  At the time, Zane thought his dad’s words a put-down. But maybe that had been his way of saying keep at it. His father had worked hard for his success. Made a lot of money in banking, but Zane never thought his old man was happy doing it. Did Zane’s happiness in the water piss him off? Or make him proud in a way he didn’t know how to relate to?

  He’d never know. But thanks to his father’s sending him on his way at sixteen, Zane had gotten to be the best at something.

  Speaking of that something, nice-sized rideable bumps followed one after the other. Zane paddled and caught the next wave. He rode it all the way in, no need for a repeat.

  Because for the first time ever, he craved something more than surfing. He returned the board and wondered where he might find a certain redhead.

  …

  People were everywhere. They surrounded the concrete ring and yellow crackling flames of the bonfire. They were cuddled up on blankets a few paces back from the towering firelight. They sat in lawn chairs and directly in the sand, some with legs intertwined, others holding hands.

  “Wow,” Zane said as he, Bryce, and Danny trudged through the crowd. “I had no idea we’d have this many people here.”

  “Word of mouth and Sophie’s magic touch,” Danny said.

  At mention of Sophie, the burn to see her grew a hundredfold. He hadn’t found her earlier. “Any idea where she’s at?” he asked just before he was mobbed by eager fans. Fans he was grateful for. He took the time to sign, take pictures, and leave a voice message for a woman’s son in the military overseas. When finished, they continued the short distance toward the Cove.

  A huge outdoor screen had been set up to show his film. Folding chairs were lined in rows. Chinese lanterns on tall iron stakes decorated the perimeter. Behind the screen, the steep mountainside that contributed to this spot’s name gleamed with the setting sun.

  The first two rows of seats were roped off for his team of filmmakers, the cast, and special guests. Jon Waldron had arrived already. And he was talking to Sophie.

  God, she looked amazing. The crown of orange-and-yellow light dipping below the horizon was nothing compared to the c
rown of light around her. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her to somewhere private so he could worship every inch of her. Starting with that mouth that had rocked his world last night.

  Bryce and Danny must have noticed his focus zero in on Jon and Sophie because they deflected the two reporters who approached.

  “Jon, hey,” Zane said. “Thanks for coming.” He turned to Sophie. “Hi, Sophie. It looks awesome out here. Thank you.”

  She held his gaze and smiled wide. “You’re welcome. You’ve got a lot of fans anxious to see your film. I forgot to ask if you’d like to say a few words before the movie starts.”

  “How about I let my director and producer do that?” They deserved just as much, if not more, credit than he did.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Sophie was just about to give me a little history lesson on bonfires,” Jon said.

  “Not really a lesson, since I only wanted to share that the word ‘bonfire’ comes from the late fifteenth century. It originally meant a fire in which bones were burned.”

  Jon gave a wink, the kind Zane imagined he gave to his grandchildren. “You’re a smart cookie, young lady.”

  “She is,” Zane agreed. “Would you mind if I borrowed her for a few minutes?”

  “Not at all.”

  Zane slipped Sophie’s arm through his and led her away.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, a little hitch in her voice he liked a lot.

  “Somewhere I can show you how much I missed you.”

  “And tell me how your meeting went? Mr. Waldron seems like such a nice man.”

  Zane glanced down at Sophie’s bare feet, her dark capri pants, and hung a left. Wet sand met their steps, the low tide tranquil. “It went great. What you said to me helped. He’s got nine grandkids and is all over reaching a younger set of philanthropists.”

  She wrapped her free arm around him for a quick hug. “I’m really happy for you.”

  They rounded the jagged edge of the mountain and entered the tiny alcove that gave total privacy. He walked them away from the water until the sand’s grains turned soft and dry, and then damn the consequences, he brought her down with him.

  “Zane!” She squirmed and tried to rise, but he kept her pinned beneath him. When her eyes met his, she relaxed. Her hands went to his face, and she kissed him.

  He kissed her back. Kissed her with everything he had inside him. She had the softest lips, and they pressed against his with the kind of tenderness and playfulness he could easily lose himself to. When he nipped, she nipped back. When he let his tongue slide against her bottom lip, she licked back. And when she moved her hold to his shoulders and raked her nails down his back, he couldn’t restrain his groan.

  She wrapped a leg around his and brought him closer. He shifted so their hips lined up, and when she moved against him, lust torpedoed through his veins. If there weren’t hundreds of people on the other side of the rock, he’d take her right here.

  A tiny gasp slipped from her lips. She’d felt his eagerness, no doubt.

  “Zane,” she breathed, and in the back of his mind, he thought, This woman. I want this woman to say my name on the caress of a kiss a thousand more times. “I need to get back.”

  Pulling away from her felt like ripping the muscle off his bones. He took a minute to stare down at her to ease the pain.

  “What are you seeing now?” she asked, the gentle tide almost drowning out her soft tone.

  “When I look at you?”

  “Yes.” Her hair was fanned out around her head in glorious waves. Her cheeks were the color of the last rays of sunshine behind him. And her pillowy lips were temptation personified.

  “I see a woman who is smart, compassionate, too beautiful for words. You do this thing to me that is unsettling and intoxicating at the same time.” And no one else had done it before.

  “Thing?”

  He played with a strand of her hair. “Yeah, you know, thing.” He’d wished for endless summers his whole life. What he wished for now was endless Sophie.

  “No one’s ever had a thing for me before.” Her eyes sparkled in pleasure, and he was glad to have been the one to do that.

  “You’ve been with some real losers, then.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I’ve always had trouble in that department, but I think you’ve fixed me.”

  “You’ve got that backward.” She’d repaired so many broken things inside him…the way he saw himself, his confidence out of the water, his optimism. “You—”

  Her finger pressed to his lips. “Shh. Kiss me one more time and let’s leave it at that. You’re a really good kisser.”

  “And that’s with my clothes on.” He grabbed her wrist and slid her finger into his mouth for a slow taste up and down.

  A visible gulp made its way down her throat. “So you’re saying we should try kissing without any clothes on?”

  “Say the word, Sophie.” Oh, the things he wanted to do to her naked body. Things he suspected her past boyfriends might not have done. He shouldn’t. He’d known all along he shouldn’t. But he wasn’t strong enough to fight his desire for her.

  “What word would that be?”

  He arched a brow. “If I tell you, do you promise to use it?”

  She glanced away, and he thought he was going to get shot down. First time that ever happened. But a second later, her gaze hit him with a deadly combination of innocence and sexiness that yanked at every part of his maleness. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to bury himself inside her.

  He wanted to… Jesus, he had to stop thinking like anything with her could go beyond the next few days. She deserved so much more than he had to offer.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  His lips captured hers in promise. He kissed her until he was sure she knew he’d take good care of her. Until she nudged him and said, “I really need to get back now.”

  …

  Sophie sat in the very last row watching Zane’s film, but she couldn’t process a darn thing. Yes, she was mesmerized by a giant Zane up on the screen, surfing insane waves and coming out of tubes, or barrels, or whatever they were called, with surf-god sexiness and skill, but all she could really think about was saying the word.

  “You are so achingly beautiful,” he’d told her when he’d lifted her off the sand with tenderness and affection. “Tell me you ache to have me inside you and I will.” He’d wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her flush against him, and she’d felt how excited he was. For her.

  She’d never thought she’d hear words like that. Never thought someone like him could see her as pretty, yet he’d said so a few times now.

  Thinking about her hand in his, his kisses, his touches, reignited the riot of tingles he caused whenever he was near. She ached between her legs, in her breasts, right this very minute, and she hoped no one noticed.

  The thought of their bodies intimately connected made it hard to think about anything else. She’d better not have any important conversations this evening. They’d be quashed by her lust for Zane.

  It’s more than lust and you know it.

  She wiggled her toes in the sand and wrapped her arms around herself. She’d teetered between hot and cold all night. Near the bonfire, warmth spread its reach, but it didn’t quite make it to this last row of plastic chairs. She hadn’t planned on tonight’s cooler temperature and left her sweater in her hotel room.

  Take off all your clothes and get on the bed, Sophie. Spread your legs for me.

  Apparently hot or cold, she still only had one thing on her mind. Zane had landed himself a permanent spot in the Sophie Chronicles. Even before he kissed her without any clothes on. She giggled.

  “Keep your cool, Sophie.”

  And now she was talking to herself.

  Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the screen. Leave it to her mother to cool her off quicker than she could blink. Since the few seats next to her were empty, she stayed put and answered it with a low voice. “Hi,
Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetie. You didn’t text me back, so I wanted to be sure everything was okay.”

  “It’s been a really busy day.” Her mother texted her her horoscope every day, even though Sophie didn’t believe in horoscopes and had told her so numerous times.

  “Did you see who posted on your Facebook page?”

  Why she accepted her mother’s friend request she had no idea. Oh wait, yes she did. If she hadn’t, her mom would have been heartbroken, not understanding about her daughter wanting a little privacy. “No, I didn’t. I haven’t had time to be online this week.”

  “Your cousin Amy. She’s moving back home and wants to get together. Why don’t you call your dad and ask him to take us all to dinner?”

  This was another thing her mom did a lot. No doubt her dad was sitting right there next to her mom engrossed in Hawaii Five-0, since it was Friday night, but her mom believed he’d be more likely to say yes to a night out if Sophie asked instead.

  “I’ll ask him when I get back.”

  “I miss you,” her mom said, warmth in her voice. Despite her little annoyances, she did love Sophie, and if she stopped all her habits, no doubt Sophie would miss them.

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  “You haven’t fallen for any of those surfers, have you? Decided to become one of those groupies I see on TV? Did I tell you I ran into Brendan? He asked about you. Said if you ever wanted to come back to—”

  “Mom.” Sophie squeezed the phone. Brendan was her old boss. “I’ve told you I have no plans to go back to doing research. I love my new job.”

  Her mom’s belabored sigh stirred the usual ache in Sophie’s stomach. She knew her mom only wanted the best for her.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. And I’m sure you’ve done an outstanding job this week.”

  “Hey,” said a deep, sexy voice in her ear.

  Sophie startled and looked over her shoulder at Zane. “Mom, I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay, honey. Be safe.”

  “Uh-huh. Bye.” She was far from safe with Zane’s warm breath on her neck.

  He scooted around her and took the seat to her right. “Thought I’d sneak back here for a few minutes. I’m much more a back row kind of guy.”